On-the-make actress Jenna Jameson made an appearance at a Manhattan screening of her new film Zombie Strippers Thursday night, much to the delight of legions of whooping horny dudes and the accommodating girls that date them. Oh, and me (pics after the jump)! Anyway, Radar caught up with the charming porn empress, who said the film's producers had labored for a full six months to get her to sign on for the film. Once she finally got time to read the script, however, she knew the role was for her: "The part required me to be a bitch," she said. "I knew I could do that." After discussing a few other talking points—making the movie was "a ton of fun" and was something she "hoped to do again"—Jameson let us in on a secret: she's an avid reader of Radar! Score! (In your face, Foreign Affairs.)

Jameson told us she's confident the film will be an instant cult classic—and it may well be, considering her maniacally devoted following and, frankly, the bounty of bare tits and gore. Jameson's performance is fun and much like what you'd expect (lots of boobs and laughs). But it's in the film's attempt to cement a legacy that it stumbles. The writer, director, editor, and cinematographer, Jay Lee, was clearly trying to make Zombie Strippers into a cult movie, ignoring the fact that most of the best B-movies aim, in some way, to be A-list. Had he simply substituted some of the film's attempts at philosophy for some more camp, he may have achieved his goal.

The plot line of Zombie Strippers (in theaters today) is muddled at best: A secret government re-animation "chemo-virus" is released into a hospital in Nebraska, and an elite government special-ops unit is sent to kill the resulting zombies by "destruction of their medulla oblongata," popularly known as "blowing their heads off." In the fray, one is bitten and infected, and ultimately wanders into an underground strip club where he attacks Cat (Jameson). Once infected, she becomes a super stripper and soon after she and several of other strippers are killing patrons in variously gruesome ways, much to the delight and prosperity of the club owner, played by gleefully creepy genre demi god Robert Englund. Eventually it all gets out of control and the special ops unit must once again swoop in to blow heads off. Throw in a bunch of references to Sartre and Nietzsche, attempts at discourse on the pros and cons of conformity, and assorted potshots at the government, and you've got yourself Zombie Strippers.

Fans of the genre, fans of makeup artistry, and fans of breasts and applebottoms will not walk away disappointed. Zombie Strippers is a fun way to get your fill of gore and masturbation material in one fell swoop.